


Oathkeeper

by MiHnn



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-03
Updated: 2012-04-03
Packaged: 2017-11-02 23:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiHnn/pseuds/MiHnn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he sees Brienne with Oathkeeper, he follows her without any suspicion to see what she had promised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oathkeeper

The ride was deathly silent. Time and again, Jaime would make a quip about how positively dreary the day was or how her armour didn't suit her as much as a pink dress would. He even went so far as to speak about her lack of sense of humour, not that he ever noticed that she had one. But Jaime, as crass and insensitive as he was known to be, did not mention the lack of flesh on her cheek, a wound so grotesque that his stomach churned at the thought of such a woman being so subdued. He had come to think of her as a giant among men and a victim to none. Besides, how could a man without a hand speak about loss of limb with a woman without a cheek? They were such a sorry pair of knights that he couldn't help but laugh.

Brienne's sombre expression did not change. "What do you find so amusing?"

"Why, nothing," he said merrily. "Simply a happy thought to pass the time." He glanced at her briefly. "I see you have no such thoughts."

Her lips pursed. "I have such thoughts. But, not today."

"Why ever not? The sun is bright, we are once again united in our quest and you will be in a position to meet your Lady Catelyn's wishes." Jaime didn't fail to notice how her armoured fingers curled around her sword. He hid a frown behind a jovial smile. "Is that not your wish, Lady Tarth?"

She was silent for a moment before she spoke. "What Lady Stark asked of me has always been important. Yet, I cannot help but feel that some oaths are not worth the sacrifice."

"What oaths are these?" he asked with humour as their mounts took them deeper into the forest where they currently travelled. "The noblest oaths are those you make to yourself. Breaking another's oath is not as folly as breaking your own."

Her smile was sad. "I would not expect anything less from an oath breaker."

It was then that he heard it, a slight rustling of leaves that did not sound wholly made by Mother Nature. He pulled on the reigns of his horse to stall their party. One by one, young men and boys stepped forward from the thick wood, each of them dressed in ill-made armour and each them drawing blades towards him. What surprised him was how his riding companion didn't seem surprised by the ambush. 

"You have done well, Brienne of Tarth," a man said appreciatively as he stepped forward, gesturing his men to keeps their swords ready. Jaime stared at her in disbelief as the man continued. "Lady Stoneheart has been expecting the likes of you." 

Even as the betrayal cut through him, Jaime felt his fake male bravado take over. "Lady Stoneheart, you say. Is she as sharp around the edges as her name boasts?"

"Quiet, Oathbreaker. Speak again and we will have no qualms to take your tongue. Justice must be served, whether it be by hanging, fire or steel does not matter to me." Three men stepped forward, one grabbing for his sword while another took his reigns. As the third made a move to slice him off his horse, he fell down in a pool of his own blood, Oathkeeper shining a crimson red. 

It was havoc then. Pulling on his sword he fought with what he could, his left arms sloppy and weak and his blows meagre. Yet, she was right by his side, defending him, taking on twelve armoured men who outnumbered them greatly. He was off his horse as soon as he could manage and did what he could. He cut the arm of one while she gutted another; he sliced a man's leg while she drew her blade from the still neck of a corpse. They fought like they were dancing, a ballad between a man and woman with swords singing the tune. He remembered starry nights and witty insults, a shared bath and a bear. 

It was when the last man fell that he finally stopped and breathed easily, dropping the sword from his aching hand. But when he turned to demand what had happened from her that he paused, a scream caught in his throat. The bloody blade seared through her chest mere seconds before she fell lifeless to the ground, followed by the limp arm of the leader of bandits. 

Jaime stared at her blank, open eyes with a sharp pain in his chest. It wasn't the first time he had felt his heart break, but it was the first time he thought it couldn't be mended.


End file.
